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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684656">The walls don't fucking love you.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggotheeggo/pseuds/meggotheeggo'>meggotheeggo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dadza, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, Hurt/Comfort, Minecraft, Minecraft Universe, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Sort Of, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), l'manberg, tommy be like: sad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:35:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggotheeggo/pseuds/meggotheeggo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a nagging voice in the back of his mind that tells him he's been pushed aside.</p><p>Tubbo will betray him too. It's only a matter of time.</p><p>Tommy tries not to dwell too much on it.</p><p>Before everything went to shit, he'd hang out with Wilbur if Tubbo was busy. Or Techno. Or literally anyone else. Now, his one brother is dead, and the other has betrayed him, and he's so, so alone.</p><p>He's never felt so cold.</p><p>OR, Tommy is left in the aftermath of the November 16th war, and his father helps him through it</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s), TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), none ew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>445</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The walls don't fucking love you.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i really felt like writing tommy angst after the november 16th stream because it killed me so take this :)</p><p>Title from Jubilee Line by Wilbur Soot</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy fucking hates these walls, and he fucking hates spruce.</p><p>Of course, Tubbo chose the one wood type Tommy despises to rebuild their entire nation with. Spruce. Who uses spruce? It's up there with the worst wood types ever, along with acacia and birch, obviously. It pisses him off so much that he turns his head to look at the ceiling instead. </p><p>Oak. God, it's so much better. Simple, familiar, calming. The wooden planks leave him feeling nostalgic, thinking of easier times when all he wants to do is go back. The prime path is made of oak. His holiday home, the house in his safe haven, the bookshelf in his childhood home, all oak. Now all he's left with is stupid fucking spruce. He hates it.</p><p>Eventually, the feelings of overwhelming sadness that comes with remembering his frankly, much better past get too much, so he turns onto his side, and stares at the cobblestone flooring instead. </p><p>Tommy doesn't think he loves any block more than he loves cobblestone. Maybe smooth stone, but cobble is still a close contender. He can't count how many times his friends have told him his cobblestone builds are ugly, but the stone still stays dear to him. (<em> He misses his reverse coaster. He still can't believe Tubbo gave the go ahead to take it down </em>.) Tommy is actually proud of his builds. All of them. Especially the cobblestone ones. He tells people this, yet they still insist on making him feel like shit about them. Tommy feels his eyes well up as he remembers how happy he'd been when he finished the reverse coaster, and how awful he'd felt afterwards when people had laughed at him. He built that with Schlatt, discussing random topics with the older man and tricking him when Schlatt brought up how he'd placed the rails down wrong. Things were easier, back then. Tommy doesn't want to think about it anymore, so he turns over to face the wall once again. </p><p>He's repeated this cycle for hours now. </p><p>Wall, ceiling, floor.</p><p>Wall, ceiling, floor.</p><p>Spruce, oak, cobble.</p><p>He can't fucking stand it. </p><p>His eyes burn from how long he's been keeping them open, so he squeezes them shut instead. How long has he been alone in this room? It feels as if weeks upon weeks have passed. He moves through the days like he's moving through molasses. Slow paced, dragging his feet along the ground more often than not. It's painful, and it's numbness. It's too much and it's nothing at all. </p><p>Tommy tries to think of the last time he had a meaningful conversation with someone. His friends are always so busy now, what with the rebuilding of their nation and everything. Tommy should be busy too. He isn't. He knows that despite his title of Vice President, he holds no real significance to L'Manberg anymore. (<em> He wonders if he ever did </em> .) Tubbo is the President, and he's so happy for him; he is. He's <em> proud </em>. And while it's incredibly nice to see his best friend take the lead, interact with new people, there's a nagging voice in the back of his mind that tells him he's been pushed aside.</p><p>
  <em> He'll betray you too. It's only a matter of time. </em>
</p><p>Tommy tries not to dwell too much on it.</p><p>Before everything went to shit, he'd hang out with Wilbur if Tubbo was busy. Or Techno. Or literally anyone else. Now, his one brother is dead, and the other has betrayed him, and he's so, so alone.</p><p>
  <em> He's never felt so cold.  </em>
</p><p>Subconsciously, Tommy pulls his thin blanket tighter around himself. He wishes Wilbur was here to comfort him. He wraps his arms around his thin frame and tries so hard to make himself believe that his older brother is holding him like he used to. Whenever he had nightmares, or the storms had him trembling in the dark, he'd climb into his brother's bed and fall asleep in an instant. Techno had said that Tommy was once small enough to curl up on Wilbur's chest. As much as he hates being called a child, he thinks he'd give anything to go back to being that age. Way before the wars, before his duel with Dream, before his brother blew up their nation as one last 'Fuck you!'. </p><p>He forgives Wilbur. It hadn't taken him long. One look at the man's grave and his battered guitar was all it took. (<em> Every day, he prays to Wilbur's stupid fucking Sky Gods to bring his brother back. They never do, and so he screams at the sky </em>.) If Tommy had tried harder, had been there for him, maybe Wilbur wouldn't have pressed the button. His father wouldn't have had to kill him. They could have been sitting together now, Wilbur strumming his guitar as Tommy listens intently. Unfortunately, things never go right for TommyInnit, and like everything else in his life, his plan to save Wilbur had failed. </p><p>Tommy thinks forgiving the older man is the least he can do.</p><p>One person he doesn't forgive is Technoblade. He will <em> never </em> forgive him. Sure, he'd seen it coming, and sure, he should have listened to Wilbur when he said not to bring the anarchist with them, but in his defence, he'd missed having the pig hybrid around. The deadpan humour, the small huff of a laugh Tommy managed to pull from him if he tried hard enough, that was his brother. And if missing his brother was wrong, then sue him. </p><p>He regrets ever responding to Technoblade's offer of help.</p><p>Techno betrayed them. Betrayed <em> him </em>. The thought of it makes his stomach turn. </p><p>He hates him.</p><p>He <em> hates </em> him.</p><p>He misses him.</p><p>The realisation hits him like a train.</p><p>He tries his hardest not to, but he will always miss his brothers. No matter what they've done. It kills him to think he'll never see Wilbur again, never have a good time with Techno again. Why does nothing go right for him? Why does everything in his sorry life go to shit? He wants to cry. TommyInnit doesn't cry. He wants to tear his own skin off. His nails have been bitten too short to make that possible. He doesn't even realise that he's hyperventilating until his lungs are burning with the force of his breaths. It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts and he just wants it to stop <em> why won't it stop? </em>He's so alone. Everyone has betrayed him and it's only a matter of time before the next. He wants to leave. He wants to go back. He wants to run away. He wants to-</p><p>"Tommy?"</p><p>
  <em> Dad? </em>
</p><p>He's finding it hard to respond, so he turns his head towards the source of noise and finds his father standing in the narrow doorway. Tommy must look like a wreck, because the look Phil gives him makes him feel pathetic. It oozes sympathy, and worry, and <em> pity </em>. Pity is the last thing he wants, because pity makes him feel weak. TommyInnit isn't weak. </p><p>"Oh, Tommy…"</p><p>The blonde keeps it together as his father makes his way over to the small bed in the corner of the room. The mattress dips as he sits down, and he wordlessly pulls Tommy into a hug. </p><p>Tommy is embarrassed to admit that it takes him less than two seconds to break down.</p><p>He crumbles like the walls of L'Manberg. </p><p>Face buried into the crook of his fathers neck, warmth enveloping him, he sobs harder than he has in years. Tommy grips the back of Phil's robe with trembling hands, wailing with a force he didn't think he was capable of. </p><p>"It's okay, son, let it all out." His father says softly, reassurance dripping from every syllable. And he does. He lets out every emotion he's repressed since the first war for L'Manberg. At this point, he doesn't care if the other members of their nation can hear his cries. All he can think of is the feeling of his dad's arms around him, the small circles being traced on his back, the slow rocking back and forth of the two as Phil whispers comforting words into his hair. </p><p>After minutes (hours?), his breathing slows. The tears don't stop, but they don't fall as frequently now. He slumps into the warm body in front of him, a heavy exhaustion setting in. </p><p>If he had the energy, he would fall victim to the small voice in the back of his head again. The one that has been taunting him with the same idea for days. </p><p>
  <em> He's going to betray you. You can add him to the list. Wisp, Dream, Eret, Schlatt, Fundy, Wilbur, Technoblade. Phil is next. You shouldn't trust him. </em>
</p><p>But for now, he's just tired. Phil is so warm, and he's been so, so cold. The collar of Phil's robe is soaked, but he buries his face further into it regardless, giving into the exhaustion. </p><p>And if he falls asleep wrapped in his fathers arms, no one but the older man and the sorrowful ghost at the foot of the bed need to know.</p>
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